America's Sweethearts
by Crimson Darkness8
Summary: Ozai attempts to rectify Azula's unacceptable infatuation with the Avatar's waterbender.


American Sweethearts

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters. I'm merely borrowing them for my own creative purposes.

A/N: This was an idea I had for a very long time, and I've just now gotten around to writing it, lol. May or may not be part of a short series of one shots.

 _Let's here it for American Sweethearts_  
 _But I must confess_  
 _I'm in love with my own sins_

" _Unclean._

 _Vile._

 _Immoral._ "

With each word came the distinct crack of a whip, the hiss of flames licking at raw skin, and the smell of burning flesh. Sweat was dripping off of both tormentor and tormented alike, but only one sported a latticework of lash marks on their backs, thin slivers of blood trailing down from each newly opened and subsequently closed wound. After their first trip to the dungeons, which had left Azula bedridden for days due to blood loss, Ozai had learned that there were better ways of getting his point across without injuring his daughter to the point that she was no longer able to perform her duties.

" _Impure._

 _Base._

 _Disgraceful._ "

Azula would scoff at the use of that word if there were any breath left in her lungs but tonight, just as every other night she'd been taken to the dungeons, she absolutely refused to cry out. She could not, _would not_ , give Ozai the satisfaction, and if that meant that she was without grace, then so be it. However that was not what these whippings were about, they never were. They were for sins Azula had committed, and would probably commit again, despite her very best efforts not to make it so.

" _Ignoble._

 _Obscene._

 _Dishonorable._ "

Azula grit her teeth with each sharp lash of the flaming whip Ozai used, his strikes growing in intensity as he moved on from condemning the nature of her damning acts to condemning Azula's role in said acts. As if she needed to be reminded that falling for the wiles of a waterbending peasant from some poor tribe settled out in the middle of vast nothingness, were anything less than dishonorable. But fall she had, _hard_ , and now she was paying for it in sweat, and blood, and flames.

" _Disgusting._

 _Inexcusable._

 _Shameful._ "

Azula hadn't _meant_ for things to go this far, and she certainly hadn't meant to get caught, but her track record had gone from successfully murdering The Avatar to he, his friends, and her exiled brother managing to just slip from her grasp one too many times for her father not to take notice. He may be cruel and power-hungry, but Ozai was no fool.

Being caught red-handed certainly hadn't helped matters either, but how could Azula _not_ track down and corner Katara during the eclipse when she was _right there_ for the taking. And taken her Azula had, hard and fast, hidden in the shadows where no one could see, which wasn't unusual for them. What _was_ unusual was the urgency, the near desperation with which they touched one another. It was as if no matter who came out the victor in those catacombs beneath the palace, they would still lose one another, and this _thing_ they'd forged with the fire of their mutual hatred, and nourished with their insatiable hunger for one another until it had grown too vast for either to escape.

It was as they were enjoying the afterglow of their stolen moment, Azula nuzzling Katara in response to the waterbender's soothing coos and soft kisses, that they heard the explosions. If Azula had been in her right frame of mind, she might have realized sooner what that meant, or noticed the fact that they were just down the corridor from where said explosions were coming from. The same corridor that Zuko was suddenly running down.

She'd barely had enough time to shove an increasingly concerned Katara into her clearly confused brother's arms. And when it looked like Katara might foolishly try to stay she had to vehemently hiss at Zuko to stop being useless for once in his life and get her out of there. But the damage had been done. When she turned around, her father was standing just outside the chambers her brother had previously fled. It was never made clear how much of their interaction he'd seen, but what he _had_ seen did not please him in the slightest and Azula knew from the look in his eyes that there would be hell to pay, and that this time she was certainly the one to pay it.

" _A stain..._ "

And yet, as the whip bit into her flesh and flames rushed to burn the wound closed, Azula couldn't bring herself to regret what she'd done, despite not knowing how things could have gotten this out of hand or how far she'd fallen. Even now, when she closed her eyes, all she could see was the bright blue of Katara's eyes. She could practically smell the clean ocean scent that always accompanied the waterbender, and feel the smooth silk of her hair as Azula's fingers threaded through the unbound strands. Soon even her father's harsh voice faded away and all that was left was Katara's soothing tones as she laughed softly.

It was almost as if she could feel the soft hands, covered cool water, easing up her back as Katara healed each and every welt placed upon her body with her extraordianary waterbending skills. It had happened before, after Azula's first trip to the dungeons. Katara had almost cried when she saw the marks, until Azula had brushed it off by saying she'd had worse. That seemed to make Katara irrationally angry, but not at Azula, at Ozai. It was as if she were ready to march into the heart of the fire kingdom right then and take on the firelord all by herself. Azula had been impressed by the outraged display but it was ultimately pointless, and she'd told her just as much. Katara had relented then, and as she pressed her hands to Azula's back, healing even the worse of the scarring (which Ozai had immediately noticed and gave her extra lashes for), she promised that as long as Azula came back to her, she would always heal her pain, inside and out. Just remembering all the ways Katara was capable of making her feel better caused Azula to shiver.

Ozai's sharp eyes naturally caught the movement, especially since he'd noticed his daughter's unresponsiveness some time ago and was watching her closely, but Azula was too far gone in her memories to realize the whip had stopped. All she could feel was Katara's cool skin sliding along her own heated flesh as she pressed as close to the firebender's back as possible; like if she could just press their bodies close enough they would become one, the same way their hearts had seem to. She would wrap her arms around Azula's shoulers and kiss the sensitive spot behind her ear that never failed to make her moan as she marveled at just how strong Azula was. Even the memory of Katara's touch was enough to cause a weak moan to fall from her dry lips, and Ozai became livid.

He may not have understood his daughter's absurd obsession with a worthless peasant from the lesser known water tribe, but he was starting to understand that it's roots ran far deeper than his whip could reach. As for Azula, lost in her thoughts as she was, she was picturing Katara's hands crawling down her bare torso and reaching into the military issue pants she still wore, all the while crying out Azula's name in her ear, as if Azula was the one bringing _her_ pleasure.

"AZULA!" Ozai finally roared, drawing a particularly vicious lash down down the middle of her back and along her spine, ruthlessly bringing his prodigal child back to the present with a shocked gasp. That caused the corner of his lips to rise in a small satisfied smirk, only for it to disappear just as quickly when Azula regained her regal bearing, her feet planted and back straight despite the shackles around each wrist and ankle leaving her at her father's mercy. She turned her head, and though her golden eyes flashed a challenge through the long strands of her unbound hair, she wore a blank, slightly bored expression.

"Yes father?" She answered clearly even when her voice croaked. Ozai's eyes narrowed. It equally impressed and infuriated him that she could still be so defiant when HE was the one with the whip. Yet there she stood, unbroken, while his arm grew weary from all the lashes he was forced to rain down on what he'd long since considered his only child.

"Where were we?"

"I do believe you were saying something about this being a stain on the legacy you're trying to build. Not quite on par with everything else you've said tonight, but I get the gist." Azula answered the probing question, snark edging the tone of her voice. Her own lips even quirked a little, mimicking his earlier smirk and causing Ozai's nostrils to flare with renewed anger.

"I see a new lesson is in order." He growled in a low voice, uncoiling the whip he'd already considered putting away for the night.

Azula braced herself.

"I am at your command." She answered, hissing when the next lash to meet her back was accompanied by arcs of electricity racing across her skin, but still she smirked. She was the daughter of fire itself, and only the calming waters of a girl from the southern water tribe could make her submit.

END


End file.
